Professional
by SwordStitcher
Summary: For the first time ever, The Riddler and Dead Switch will be subjected to dual therapy sessions. They go as badly as one would expect.
1. Whistler

A/N: A reviewer once said that sometimes Riddler and Dead Switch seem like close friends and sometimes she's just another goon. Well, I hope to answer him/her with this because it gives me a reason to make something I've been looking to write for a long time. A dual therapy session between employer and employee.

This will eventually become a three part series. Strap in, it's going to get messy.

* * *

Edward Nigma always wondered: Why him? Why was _he_ the celestial lightening rod of bad luck?

Whatever the admittedly dazzling scheme, Batman would be on hand to wreck it. Oh he tried, he always had contingency plans for the Dark Knight's eventual intervention but somehow, Batman always destroyed those plans too.

And now the doctors of Arkham – Curse them all – Had decided to take a new approach to his rehabilitation and that was forcing him to attend sessions with his therapist _and_ his employee.

_The horror. _

She looked almost as happy about it as he did, which made the duel glares of anger very intimidating to one Gretchen Whistler who was trying her utmost to ignore the fiery stares. Edward almost broke off and smirked at the level of squirming but held firm to his steely gaze.

'Do either of you understand why Warden Sharp has granted the unusual request of mine to see you both together?'

'Is he hoping we'll eventually kill one another?' Switch snapped acidly. He had to chuckle quietly at how frustrated and icy she was. It was a sure sign of her feelings on this little enforced evaluation.

'I would very much like to know the dynamic between you two. It has been commented upon that at certain times your relationship can be described as friendly and others, it is clinically detached.'

'It's called professionalism.' Switch snapped.

'Professionalism?' Whistler seemed surprised something like that was offered up so freely, especially from two of the most infuriating patients she had. 'Would you like to elaborate?'

By the glint in her eyes and the sudden lean forward, Edward knew they had her. She was intrigued, despite all attempts to hide it. 'If you answer a riddle.'

Whistler's head shot towards the weaker of the two, but Dead Switch just shrugged with a wolfish grin. 'You are not allowed to ask riddles, Edward.' She replied, playing her card far too late.

'But doctor, we're also not allowed to see each other either, remember? Something about Folie a deux and enabling criminal activity?'

'Don't make me increase your medication.' Whistler threatened. It hardly had the desired effect.

'And then I will be a drooling shell and you will have to get all your answers from…that.' Edward replied.

'Thank you_ so_ much.' Switch replied scathingly. 'I always wanted to be a _that_.'

Although their words and tones were scathing and venomous to outsiders, both knew enough of each other not to take words personally. Words were how they expressed their frustrations and anger.

'Is this always how you speak to one-another?'

There seemed to be a battle of wills going on with stare alone, but it broke swiftly with Edward as victor.

'Answer a riddle first.'

Whistler relented. 'We'll play this your way, Edward. What's the riddle?'

'Oh, so you wish to play now? _This thing all things devours: Birds, beast, trees, flowers; Gnaws iron, bites steel; Grinds hard stones to meal; Slays king, ruins town,  
And beats high mountain down_.' Edward smirked. While it wasn't the most difficult in his repertoire, it would be more than enough to stump her and then they could sit in blissful peace while she tried to work it out before being returned to their cells.

As expected the room grew quiet as Whistler debated on the correct answer. She was frowning, turning the riddle over and over in her mind but she would never possibly- 'Time?'

Or maybe she could. It had been too easy after all. Edward scowled and acquiesced that she had indeed answered the riddle.

Switch shot him a glance, waiting for his approval. He nodded stiffly and she sighed.

'We don't take the verbal diatribe personally. It's how we work out our frustrations rather than, say, strangling someone.'

Which was an understatement. Edward expected to be obeyed when they worked, his plans followed through to the letter, regardless of personal feeling. His employees, if they held a suitably large vocabulary, were allowed to articulate their feelings in appropriate situations and be ignored but there's only so many times he could hear '_It's the Bat!_' Before even he was contemplating his own killings.

'Have you ever crossed-'

'Another puzzle, Doctor?' Edward cut across her curiosity quickly.

'_Fine_, Edward, give me the riddle.' Whistler sighed.

'Oh this isn't a riddle, this is an anagram. Would you like to hear it?'

'Fine.' Whistler grit. 'But you will answer my questions.'

'Apology's chirpy sting.' Edward rattled off smugly. Of course there were several nonsense words she would reach before-

'A prying psychologist?' Is that meant to be an attack on me, Mister Nigma?'

'I'm not done doctor. You break it even if you name it! What is it? '

'I'm done playing your games Edward.' Whistler replied much to his irate anger.

'Answer the question doctor.' His tone lost all sense of joviality as he watched her ignore him. She was_ ignoring_ him. _No-one_ ignored him.

He turned to Switch; she was giving him the same look. In the silence, Switch's cuffs sprang open. In seconds, she'd lunged over the desk and hauled Whistler back with her. A sharpened ruler came out of her pocket and gently touched the psychologists neck as Edward worked on cracking his own restraints open.

'I really do hate doing things this way, but you ham brained oafs hardly seem to take note unless you're at personal risk. Do answer the question Doctor Whistler. _You break it even if you name it! What is it?_'

'…Silence.' Whistler croaked at last. 'It's silence.'

'Correct!' Edward paced back and forth in front of the desk, completely at ease now he had her full attention. 'Now just consider for a moment, the answers you provided. Time, a prying psychologist and silence.'

For a second, Whistler looked confused and then she whitened in horror.

'I see you've worked it out.'

The ruler dug deeper into her skin, slicing a shallow cut into her throat. 'Edward, please, stop this!'

'Now you beg for your pathetic life?' Edward's tone was amused, but he was far from it. 'How predictable. Tell me doctor, do you still consider this move smart? Allowing us to socialize with each other?'

'Because we thought it was just stupid.' Switch snarled.

'And stupidity cannot be tolerated.' Edward agreed happily. 'Now, it's time for the prying psychologist to be silenced.'

Switch's wrist moved to slice open Whistler's throat when the door broke and splintered. Both aggressors' attentions shifted to the door as guards scrambled through the breach. Guns were trained on them and orders flew back and forth, mainly at Switch to release Whistler.

With a growl, she let the ruler drop from her fingers.

They were roughly bundled to the floor and handcuffed as Whistler clutched a soaked handkerchief to her throat.

'Are you alright doctor?'

'Yes, yes. Fine. Thank you for coming so quickly.'

'You picked a good time to trigger the emergency alarm.'

This was going to be a long stint in solitary but the main objective had been achieved. No-one was ever going to put them together in a therapy session again. Not after this.

Mischief managed.


	2. Strange

A/N: Part two of three! It's about to get hella dark up in here but I can assure you all that there were no lasting physical deformities caused to the lackey in question. I will also not be translating Switch's French because it's basically death threats and profanity.

Enjoy, review, peace out!

* * *

Therapy, again. Although this one should be much more fun than the previous session. After the frankly terrible idea to unite employer and employee for an included session, they hadn't heard from Whistler again. Although, they were informed that they would receive a new therapist. Strange in both manner and name.

This one should prove to be much more of a challenge than a frail old German with some backwater diploma.

It seemed the session had already begun by the time he was escorted to the office. Switch was already there, shackled into a seat with a suicide collar around her neck. Curious. As far as he was aware, she'd never shown suicidal tendencies in her life.

'Ah, Mister Nigma, do take a seat.' Strange waved a hand at the vacant seat next to Switch. She threw him a rueful look as his hands were made otherwise occupied. 'I am Doctor Strange. I'm sure you know that Doctor Whistler is now, alas, unavailable to take these sessions.'

Unavailable, yes. You could call a mental breakdown cause to be unavailable. Edward had thought that after they had successfully broken Whistler, that these sessions would come to an end, apparently not.

'I asked to take on these sessions.' Strange continued, oblivious to Edward's fury about having to undergo another ridiculous endeavour.

'Good for you!' Edward mocked him with a smile, He half-expected Strange to lose some of his joviality but Strange was still smiling.

'Do you know why I had a suicide collar placed on Miss Swain?'

'I assume you think she's suicidal, Doctor.'

'No. I do not.'

'Yargh!' Switch doubled over suddenly as Strange held down a button on his desk. The collar sparked as it's modifications sent an electrical current through her neck and limbs, constricting everything painfully.

'Oh I _see_, you want to gauge my reactions about causing her pain. That won't work, because I don't care.'

'Don't you?'

Her hands twisted into claws and worked furiously, despite the fact they were strapped securely to her sides. She looked to be in agony and was swiftly turning ashen but the spasming made it impossible to open her mouth and scream fully.

'Strange. Stop it.'

'Why?'

'Because it isn't working. I don't care.'

'Oh but you do Edward, you try to hide it, but you're uncomfortable with it.'

'I'm not uncomfortable with it, Strange. I just hate the noises she makes. Stop it.'

Suddenly, this game wasn't as fun anymore. He finally released the button and Switch flopped forward, in agony as the phantom spasms faded. She'd barely been released and barely sucked a breath when the tirade of abuse started. 'Gah! Mon Dieu- Salaud!'

'A bastard, miss Swain?' Strange seemed pleased with the reaction he got.

'Je vais vous tuer, vous excuse désolé pour un professionnel de la santé mentale. _Vous cul-clown. Vous salaud!_' She hissed as she shook in pain and anger.

'I wasn't given to understand you knew any other language. Already we make progress.' Strange wrote something down, much to Edward's growing anger.

Of course she knew another language. It was well known that _he_ was fluent in many languages, chief among them – Sarcasm. Hardly anyone knew Switch was fluent in several of her own. She hardly ever used them unless she was startled into a response or they didn't want eavesdroppers. The coaching of that had taken _forever_ but if apes can learn, then he was determined to teach her.

He was playing them, it was a different and much more violent game than Whistler's had been, but he was teasing out information.

_He was winning and their session had hardly begun._

Strange must have known he had figured it out by now, as he all but confirmed Edward's assessment. 'Forthwith, our sessions will go as follows; I will ask the questions and you will answer them will full frankness. Should you refuse to answer, or fail to divulge the full truth-' He pressed the button again. Switch screamed. Within seconds, he'd let go but his inflection was clear. Should they try any of the tricks they'd pulled with Whistler, Switch would suffer and he wouldn't stop after a few seconds.

As much as Edward was swiftly starting to hate the man, he was just as quickly gaining something almost like _respect_ for him. He'd subdued both of them effectively and with simple means. Not _ethical_, what he was doing was far from ethical, but it was working.

Because Edward wanted and needed her alive. As much as bluffing had worked with Whistler, it wasn't working with Strange. He must at least suspect that they actually cared about one-another.

'What exactly is the nature of your relationship?'

'Aucun de votre putain d'entreprise!' Switch snapped as Edward opened his mouth.

'I assure you, Miss Swain, it is my business.' The button was pressed again. Edward fought for his face to remain neutral as she screamed.

'Shall we try that again?'

Switch this time, offered no argument or derogatory statement, mainly because she couldn't. The skin around her throat was now an angry red, her nerves were probably on fire from the burns and her vocal chords seized from the spasms. The look she gave him though, was pure hate.

'What exactly is your relationship to one-another, Edward?'

'Why do you all want to know that?' He vented. Strange waggled a finger over the pain button, much to the lackey's horror. 'We work together. We know a lot about each other. We get along as well as anyone can.'

Strange pressed the button, much to Edward's absolute fury. 'Why?! I answered!'

'Someone like you Edward would never tell the whole truth, at least at first. I intend to work on that in our later sessions.'

Later…_Later sessions?! _This couldn't be happening. Switch was not going to take a lot more punishment and if Switch died, not only would he be a henchman down, he would have to answer to Clarice about why he let her friend die.

Which meant no breakout nookie. Without that, just what was the point in breaking out? Besides the obvious.

'Now let us try that again. Are you friends, Edward?'

'_Yes_.' He seethed.

'Exactly how close is this friendship?'

'_Close_.'

'Is it not unreasonable for you to allow certain practices you wouldn't normally allow any of your other employees?'

'Of course.'

'Why?'

'A number of reasons. She's more valuable than the other brainless thugs, she has earned her right to challenge me and she usually has a valid point.'

'The fact she shares a close relationship with another patient, loosely considered to be your girlfriend makes no difference?'

_Not Clarice. He won't threaten Clarice._ Edward grit his teeth but refused to be drawn on the subject of his relationship.

'I thought you were above that which makes us apes, Edward? Including carnal desires.'

'Apparently not, Strange. I can't say it isn't nice.' His smile was brittle and even he knew it.

For a second, Strange seemed to ponder that and then he pressed the button.

'Ngh.' Switch doubled over again.

'You lied again, Mister Nigma and Miss Swain is paying the price.' Her jaw had clamped shut as the electricity passed through and had trapped some of the skin of her lip. Blood was dripping down her chin as he watched her teeth bite through the soft flesh.

'You're killing her.' Edward snarled.

'Why, with your logic Edward, you're the one killing her.'

'Stop it…Stop!'

'Answer me honestly, Edward.'

'_I have!_'

'No, you haven't.'

Frustration; Sometimes he would get just a taste and others it would be what was for dinner. Bitter anger and frustration were raging against his better judgement to just answer him. An answer was all it would take to stop the brutal punishment Switch was going through but he couldn't. He couldn't answer. That would be weakness. That would be something Strange would pounce on.

'Do you care for your employees Edward? Oh you say you don't, but we both know that's a lie, don't we?'

'_Yes_.' He sighed at last. 'I care, of course I do. I'm only….Human.' Strange's finger was pulled away and Switch slumped back in her chair, barely conscious.

'I think we'll end our session there. We've made some progress but not as much as I would have liked.'

Edward was forced to radically reassess his convictions upon walking into this session. This wasn't easy, nor was it a challenge. This was brutal, all out war and by the next session, they absolutely would have a resistance to Strange's tactics. Something a lot better than Switch being tortured to provide motivation for an answer.

'Could someone please attend to take Miss Swain and Mister Nigma back to their cells?'

_Cells?_ 'She needs a doctor!' Edward snapped, appalled. This wasn't how professionals were meant to act at all. This was how the criminals acted. He would have expected something like this from Dent or Cobblepot not someone employed at Arkham Asylum, not someone _meant to be curing them_.

'She may have received one Mister Nigma, if you had cooperated at the start. Something to remember for next time, I'm sure.'

Switch had been right. He was a bastard but this wasn't the end. Far from it.


	3. Fight back

A/N: I absolutely love how you guys are laughing at the first chapter and in the second it's like I crushed all your souls. Is this how George R.R Martin feels? I could also go on for like another ten pages with sassy Riddler and Strange but I'd not get it finished now, would I? I know I said three chapters, a trilogy but then I promised L.D a follow-up chapter and oh god why? One more chapter to go!

PS: This chapter damn near BROKE me, people. Stitcher needs to go and lie down to get over the excitement about it finally being done with. Ohmigawd. I have literally been unable to concentrate on anything else until this was done. _I AM ONE HUNDRED PERCENT DONE WITH THIS THING._

* * *

Their third double session was a much more subdued affair than either of the last two. After Strange's show of power and Edward's admittance that he was - shockingly - just human, the dust had settled and the victor of the first battle was Strange, but that wasn't going to stand.

Edward Nigma was not some psychologists talking puppet. He was going to fight back in his own way; though he had no doubt that Strange expected him to fight back which made his options limited. He could disappoint the man and play his little game without resisting or he could do what was no doubt expected and let Switch suffer the consequences, as Strange made obvious.

But if there was one thing Edward had learned as a criminal, it was that no-one was entirely innocent and everyone had that one secret they would beg to remain hidden. He just had to find it.

And oh, did he find it. He found more than Strange probably ever intended, more than even he intended to uncover.

_Something called Arkham City._

Once again, Switch was already waiting upon his arrival. She looked worse for her torture. Her skin was pale almost everywhere but her neck, where it was red and cracked. She hadn't even bothered to wipe the dried blood from her lip.

Strange had not arrived yet, which left them free to talk, although Edward was sure he was listening in somehow. He would not allow his patients together and not listen to what was being said. It was time to employ one of those impressive languages he had spent too long grinding into her.

He chose one at random and spoke low.

'Do you trust me?'

She turned to look at him, wary to answer his question and get another shock. Even though Strange wasn't in the room, he'd left a permanent space in her head for him. 'Yes…' She croaked after a while. 'Of course I do.'

'Good. Remember that.'

Her brows knotted together in confusion. 'What're you-'

'I apologise for my lateness, there seemed to be some sort of incident over at the penitentiary I had to diffuse. A patient tried to commit suicide, although I'm sure you already knew that.'

'Did he back down?' Edward enquired.

'No, he slit his own throat.' Strange replied flippantly. The mood of the room dropped a few degrees more.

_Of course he slit his own throat, Strange. You'd been feeding him a cocktail of drugs for the past three month. Drugs you knew would cause suicidal tendencies. _

Edward had been busy since their last session. No-one electrocutes his employees. Not unless he ordered it. What he'd found besides his leverage was disturbing, alarming, anger inducing. He'd discovered very little.

Normally, Edward had someone's life from birth til present in a matter of hours but each and every time he went at Strange's past, no matter the angle, it was blank.

_Just what was he?_

'I would like to start this session with you, Edward. We touched upon your revelation that you were only human towards the end of our last assessment.'

_After he'd finished electrocuting Dead Switch to within an inch of her life. _

'Yes, Doctor. We did.' He could see Strange's calculating look, judging whether or not Edward was indeed, learning to lie down and play dead. Edward could practically see his fingers crawling for the button.

'Our rule still applies Edward, or do you need another demonstration?'

Beside him, Switch had stiffened. Her hands were starting to shake; he could hear the jangling of the metal restraints. She was frightened.

_Frightened of Strange. _

It was rather a testament to Strange's skill that after one session, someone Edward knew could cope well under pressure was terrified by the mere prospect of what Strange was threatening. To date, only Joker had such an effect. 'No. That's not necessary.'

'Good. I had hoped that we could work on our trust today, Edward. No more lies.'

'I couldn't agree more.' This was far easier than he'd anticipated to get onto the subject. 'Speaking of, I was talking to Jervis the other day.' Did Strange's gaze suddenly become sharper? It looked to be so. 'Imagine my surprise when he said you were his therapist.'

'I see a lot of patients, Edward. Not just yourself and Miss Swain.'

'Of course, of course. I tried to explain this to him but all he seemed to prattle on about was _Alice_. How he was soon going to get the _real _Alice. As soon, in fact, as he helped someone.'

'Jervis is a complicated case. I'd much rather talk about you.'

'Oh by all means. Did you know my internet restrictions were _finally_ removed last night?' Edward's grin became practically predatory. 'I can't believe it took so long. It's not as if my little hack of Quincy Sharp's campaign website was terrible-'

'It was demeaning, Edward.'

'_That was the point._' Edward smirked as Strange's glasses flashed dangerously. 'While I was in there, I took the time to snoop around because, well, I'm me.' Edward laughed, delighting in the reveal.

'I assume you will not be dissuaded from this topic, Edward?' Strange sighed.

'Of course not!' He snapped but settled back. What he was about to say was going to make him one hell of a target, but this arrangement would not stand. Absolutely not. Strange had thrown down a gauntlet at their first meeting and Edward was definitely going to retaliate.

'How about a riddle, doctor?'

Strange knew better than Whistler, he didn't bother to chide and threaten him with medication upgrades, his finger simply hovered on the button of pain.

'_Tyger, tyger, burning bright, in the forests of the night_._ The wind is blowing, the sound of change, curious how everything comes up…__**Strange**__._'

If Edward had not been looking for it, he probably wouldn't have seen Strange's sudden shift from amicable to something almost dangerous. But now was not the time to play coy. 'You slipped up, Strange. In the accounting books. Tyger Securities is a donor of Sharp.'

'I don't see how this relates to me in any capacity.' Strange replied evenly. 'I am not affiliated with that company in any respect. Perhaps it is a manifestation of your delusion Edward. Paranoia is not uncommon for you.'

'Well if someone as paranoid as I could find such a tenuous link, imagine what some Investigative Journalism could accomplish.'

'Are you trying to blackmail me Edward?'

'Blackmail? Am I blackmailing, Switch?'

She seemed torn between answering him or staying mute through her absolute fear of being electrocuted again. 'Not yet.' She answered, but wouldn't look up or look him in the eye. It was apparent she was braced for pain.

His resolve to end these debacles of therapy sessions increased. This_ would_ end. One way or another. Certainly before Strange grew bored and began his experiments on their medication as he had patently done to the patient who had committed suicide.

'I think your medication might need adjusting-'

'Of course, it isn't just the slip-up with Tyger Securities, is it, Hugo?' Strange was cut off mid-sentence but listened as Edward continued his little show. 'I note you no longer use your office in Park Row. And you've been buying up plenty of land across the river. No doubt for something called _Wonder Tower_.'

'Where could you bee possibly getting this information, Edward? You are locked in an asylum.' For someone now under siege, as Edward knew Strange was, he had to admire the man's mask of serenity. In fact, when he asked about his methods of acquiring such information, he made it almost sound as though the information itself was a part of his _delusion._

But Edward knew he had him on the run. He also knew Strange was now done with his games concerning them. Clearly Edward knew too much and for him to simply drop off the face of the earth now would be highly suspicious but if he happened to die during the events of _Arkham City_ or perhaps earlier if convenient, well it could hardly be Strange's fault. Thugs no doubt.

Yes, Edward wasn't going to be touched. Not yet.

And then there came another problem. _'New patient in the Intensive Treatment lobby.' _

'Clearly, we have underestimated each other, Mister Nigma.' Strange spoke carefully, no doubt leafing through his choices. 'I shall call this session to an end. I have other interests to attend to.'

No doubt. Strange was going to hunt down the leaks that had led Edward to uncovering a sizable portion of his little plan, but not all of it. It was a thorn in his side but-

'_All non-essential staff to vacate the area.' _

He really didn't have the time.

'_Junk strong ignorances appeal_.' Edward muttered as the guard unlocked their restraints and all but forced them out of the door.

Edward could have sworn, he _would_ have sworn that Strange had replied 'I know.'

It took Dead Switch and her considerably smaller intellect a lot longer to find the right word. 'Wait, that's _today?!_'

'Shut up patient!' Her escort hissed. Switch visibly flinched.

Edward merely smirked.

'_Category nine patient in transit._'

They were being forced along the corridor when the first sign began. 'Ladies and Maniacs, I apologise for this interruption-'

'Oh god, is that Joker on the tannoy?'

The clank of metal in front of them must have dragged their terrified little brains back to their own problems.

Switch was a fast hand at lockpicking when she was given enough motivation and Joker was _plenty _motivation.

In less than three minutes, both guards were bleeding heavily on the floor. Switch used her impromptu lockpick to attack the padlock that secured the suicide collar to her neck and as it came away, Edward noted how painful it was to pry from her neck and how much skin went with it.

Her immediate response, like everything that angered her, was to take some sort of over the top revenge. 'Stupid fucking machine!' She stomped on it again in anger and watched the case shatter satisfactorily.

'Must you do that?' Edward sighed. 'It is an inanimate object.'

'Nezaujíma ma, že som v bolesti.' She snarled and gave it one last stomp before she stepped away.

'Slovak, interesting. In pain?' He closed the gap and forced her head up. In the bad lighting of the corridor he checked over her burns. 'Superficial, at best.' The look on her face garnered the last of his pity; she had been effectively tortured by Strange. He sighed and reached into a pocket.

'Here.' She looked down at the cloth he had proffered. It was, as everything Edward owned, bright green and was filled with a question mark pattern. It was larger than a regular handkerchief and much lighter. In all honesty, Edward kept it around more as a sort of bandage than its intended use, but it would do to cover her neck.

'Thanks.' She seemed hesitant and shaken, which wasn't a surprise. The cloth was looped around her cracked red skin and did a good enough job of covering it. She tied it off to one side and rubbed a hand across the strange cotton material. 'When I get hold of Strange…' She muttered darkly.

'Let me guess, you'll do unto him what was done unto you?'

'Fuck no,' she muttered unhappily. 'I'm not dicking about with torture; I'll just kill him outright.'

That made him laugh. 'I'm almost surprised but I know that Strange will not have stayed to endure what's to come.' Her hands tightened and loosened in rhythm, she wasn't happy with that.

Maybe a return to normalcy would sate her growing anger. Now the collar was off and she had no fear of long distance torture, she wanted blood. A few laps of the island, hiding his trophies should burn off any kind of edge her vengeance had.

'Eddie? Where are you- Ah! There you are Eddie-boy!'

And then there was that. 'Joker.' Edward sighed in displeasure, his head turned to the nearest camera.

'Do your _favourite_ psychotic clown a favour and get up here, will you? I've got a few more computers you'll have _so_ much fun getting into.'

Edward growled. He thought he'd opened up all the computers of importance just before he defaced Sharp's campaign website, but there were apparently more. Probably on a closed system. The prospect of being in close proximity to "Warden Joker" was not how he'd wanted to spend this riot, however up in Security, he could make several skeleton keys and facilitate Switch's route through the Asylum. It was _almost_ worth putting up with that giggling idiot.

'Fine, Joker. I'll be there momentarily.'

'Good show! Good show! And uh- Eddie? Watch out for _Bats_. _**HAHAHA-**_'

God he hated Joker. Hated him almost as much as he hated Batman.


End file.
